InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Blackout ❯ Inuyasha's Heart ( Chapter 34 )

Disclaimer: I don’t own Inuyasha or any of the publicly known characters, plot, etc. I’m just renting them from Rumiko Takahashi, Viz, etc. I do own the plot of this story and any original characters I’ve created. I will make no money from this fic; I write for my own enjoyment and the enjoyment of my readers.


Inuyasha’s Heart


Inuyasha floated in a dull, featureless world, drifting on some imaginary plane of consciousness. It was peaceful, except for the disturbing sensation of an unknown foreign entity rooting around inside his chest. He felt that this should mean something to him, but couldn’t quite unravel the tangled threads of his memory just yet. He shrugged, feeling oddly relaxed despite the bizarre situation. He couldn’t comprehend the source of his mysterious confidence, but was comforted by it nonetheless. Everything was as it should be.

An image materialized before him, one he recognized immediately. Okaa-san… She looked exactly as he remembered, standing before him with her arms spread, facing down the mob which clamored for his death. She was prepared to give her life for him, and on that terrible day, fate had finally called upon her to make that sacrifice.

He’d been playing by himself at the outskirts of the village, partly to escape the oppressive confines of his grandfather’s castle, and partly because the world of trees and wildlife beyond the settlement was the only one which truly accepted him. His mother encouraged him to explore, to learn something new about himself each day. Still, within her loving embrace was his favorite place to be. Her arms were the only home he’d ever known. Before his own foolishness had caused them to be torn away, forever.

It was an accident. He’d been pushing his limits, trying to leap over a storage hut in a single bound, quite a feat for a young hanyou. If he pulled it off he knew his mother would be proud of him, even if the rest of the humans called him a freak. But he’d tripped over an unfortunately placed rock and tumbled head first into the wall of the hut. Later he would wish that his head wasn’t so hard; it would have been better if his skull had broken rather than the wood. The villagers certainly didn’t care that he was just a clumsy hanyou kid who didn’t know his own strength. Especially not when a rogue youkai had recently been tearing up their fields and smashing storage huts at night, all of which they naturally blamed on the ‘youkai’ in their midst, despite an utter lack of evidence to support that assertion. The damaged hut, the only destruction Inuyasha had actually caused, proved to be the breaking point. When he went into the village to tell them what he’d done, because his mother had taught him to take responsibility for his actions, the men had surrounded him and backed him up against a wall, wielding swords and spears and calling for his blood. He’d been too frightened to do anything more than cower and cry. His attackers were unmoved.

They would have killed him on the spot had his mother not intervened. She pushed her way through the crowd, placing herself between her son and his attackers. He still remembered the sound of her voice, so strong and authoritative, an attempt to remind everyone who she was. But the villagers were too incensed to be dissuaded by a disgraced hime, despite her fancy clothing and regal bearing. One man tried to shove her aside, and she grabbed his spear, attempting to wrench it away from him. He flung her to the ground, and when she would not stay down, he swung the weapon downward in a great arc. The sharp crack of her collarbone breaking was clearly audible to Inuyasha’s hanyou ears. She cried out in pain, but still refused to stand aside. A few brutal kicks to her midsection ended the struggle. His mother lay on her side, gasping for breath, the sickening scent of her blood filling the air. In just a few moments, Inuyasha’s world had changed forever.

A murmur went up in the crowd, and they began to disperse. Some were horrified by what one of their own had done, while others feared reprisal by their liege lord. When Inuyasha’s grandfather and his entourage arrived some time later, however, the old man only gazed down at his daughter with a hard expression. Some lingering element of fatherly love drove him to have her carried back to his castle. To Inuyasha he spoke only a few words, without looking at him. “Leave, boy. If you ever return here, I will kill you.” Then they left him there, staring at the spot where his mother had fallen, watching as her blood seeped slowly into the hard-packed earth.

That night he snuck into the castle, ignoring his grandfather’s orders. He overheard his mother’s doctors giving their lord the bad news–his mother had been made comfortable, but nothing could be done. Several of her ribs had broken and punctured one or both of her lungs. “Let her die, then,” was his grandfather’s cold response, which chilled Inuyasha to the bone even as he tried to tell himself that it wasn’t true. Those denials ceased as soon as he entered his mother’s chambers. She could barely breathe, and even then, her exhales brought up dark blood each time. His mother was dying.

Even so, she smiled when she saw him. It was the same smile she’d always worn, the one which showed him that he was loved, despite what everyone else in the world said. That she loved him still, even after what he’d done, set Inuyasha’s lip to trembling and brought forth tears from the very center of his being. He ran to her then and embraced her–too tightly, in retrospect, but she hugged him back without complaint, whispering soothing words against his hair. He tried to apologize–for being such a burden, for ruining her life by being born a hanyou, and for inadvertently killing her–but she would hear none of it. In the end, her greatest pleasure was simply knowing that he was alive. He still remembered her final words, thick with emotion and broken by the struggles of her damaged lungs.

“Inuyasha, my son…I am sorry that I must leave you…so young. You must…fend for yourself now. Leave this castle…seek your own place in the world. It will not be easy, but…I know you will make me proud, my son. You…have your father’s heart. Never forget my love. Carry it with you…always.”

She drifted into unconsciousness shortly thereafter, and passed away during the night. Inuyasha remained by her side throughout, weeping bitterly against her body until her doctors came in to check on her. He rounded on them, fangs bared, the desire to kill rising within him for the first time. But his mother’s parting words echoed through his mind, soothing his grief-fueled rage. Instead, he turned his unnatural strength upon the wall, punching a hole large enough for him to squeeze through and make his escape.

Inuyasha had never returned to the castle. He’d remained in the area only long enough to ensure that his mother received a proper funeral. Her family buried her in an unmarked forest grave, a piece of their history they would like to forget. Inuyasha fashioned a simple marker of his own, and returned to pay his respects regularly as he grew up. Over the years, his visits had become less frequent due to his wide wanderings and other responsibilities, but he continued to carry his mother’s love with him. In some of his darkest moments, it was the only thing which kept him going.

Inuyasha blinked, then reached up to wipe the tears from his face. For once, he didn’t berate himself for crying. The tears reminded him of his mother’s words so long ago, and of her wisdom. You were right, Okaa-san, I do have my father’s heart. Recent relationship developments had made that even more abundantly clear. Despite his mistakes and shortcomings, he knew both of his parents would be proud of the man he’d become.

Full clarity at last returned to Inuyasha’s mind, and he recalled what he was doing in this strange world, reliving old memories. Hakago is searching for the darkness in my heart. I must be seeing what he’s seeing. But the perverse infant would discover no darkness here. Initially, he’d been heartbroken over causing his mother’s death. But she had never blamed him for it, and her final words had eventually enabled him to move on. He had made peace with his mother’s death long ago, warmed by her undying love and devotion. Hakago’s questing tendrils would find no purchase here.

“Give it up, you bastard,” Inuyasha called into the abyss. “You can’t beat me.”

“Kukuku,” the infant laughed, his confidence in no way diminished by his initial defeat. “I am just getting started.”

The next target area for Hakago’s search came as no surprise to Inuyasha. But here too, there was no darkness to exploit. Perhaps as little as a couple months ago, the reminder of his role in the tragedy which had befallen Kikyou fifty years ago might have broken him. But he had recently made peace with that as well, after the battle in the youkai graveyard. He finally knew what Kikyou was to him, what she was not, and what he owed her. He could sense Hakago’s surprise and dismay at the failure of his second attempt; Kagome’s memories must have convinced him that Kikyou was a great weakness of his. She still was to some extent, but not in a way which the infant could exploit. Slightly less confident than before, Hakago moved on.

The next collection of memories the infant showed him were difficult to bear, bringing to vivid life all of the times he had hurt Kagome. His chest clenched in dismay each time his former self broke her heart. The occasions after the conception of their child were the most poignant. Finally Hakago asked him how he thought he was worthy of Kagome, since all he had caused her was pain. Again, his revelations in the youkai graveyard provided the answer.

He wasn’t worthy of her. Based on his past actions, he didn’t even come close to deserving Kagome. But that wasn’t the point. Somehow, against all rhyme or reason, Kagome loved him. And love didn’t have to make logical sense. All he wanted was a chance to prove that he loved her just as deeply. He had been a fool, and had indeed caused her indescribable pain, but she would forgive him. And he would never hurt her like that again. If she would have him, he would be a better man, and would give her everything she had ever wanted and more. He would give her his heart, as she had already given hers to him. He would heal her wounded soul, as she had already healed his. They would join their lives, sharing their bodies and hearts, and live together for the rest of their days. Against such a promised future, there was no room for darkness.

There was, however, room for suffering, as Inuyasha was loath to admit. The next visions which Hakago showed him were not memories, but products of his imagination. It was almost like daydreaming, though what he saw was the stuff of nightmares. Kagome walked through the regional marketplace a couple villages over from Kaede’s, trying to maintain her composure as threats and insults rained down upon her, as well as small stones. ‘Tainted miko!’ ‘Youkai’s whore!’ Finally someone threw a larger stone which caught her square in the temple, sending her sprawling to the dirt. The villagers laughed as she struggled to stand, some kicking dirt or spitting on her as they passed.

Next he saw her lying on the side of some country road, curled in on herself as a couple men kicked her and beat her with clubs. By the time they finally left her, she was barely able to move. She could only lie there, physically broken, and hope that a friend happened upon her. The final vision was of a solitary hut, the door barred from the outside, and surrounded by a mob of angry villagers wielding weapons and torches. Some of the men set fire to the structure, which aided by a favorable wind quickly grew into a towering inferno. Nothing could be heard aside from the sounds of burning wood and the villagers’ shouts of encouragement, but it did not take a genius to figure out who was trapped inside the conflagration.

Abruptly the visions ceased, and Inuyasha recovered from his state of shock to the sounds of his own heavy breathing. His imaginary body was tense as a board, his claws digging deeply into his palms from how hard he’d clenched his fists, though this was inside his own mind so he did not bleed. He did, however, feel the pain, and the despair which Hakago had obviously intended to instill.

“Are you so selfish, Inuyasha? Will you condemn Kagome to a life of ridicule and hate? She would be better off if she had never met you.”

A new vision passed before Inuyasha’s eyes, this one even more horrible than any of the others. It was something which the hanyou had secretly feared for some time now–the sight of his transformed self standing over Kagome’s lifeless corpse, his vicious claws covered in her blood. Lying underneath her, as if she had been trying to shield it from his wrath, was the body of a small child. Inuyasha could just make out a tiny canine ear from his vantage point. A baleful snarl escaped him then, and he swiped blindly out in front of him, as if to ward off the cursed images. They faded away, only to be replaced once more by Hakago’s voice, driving the knife deeper into his heart.

“Surrender to me, Inuyasha. Then Kagome can go back to her own time. She will be safe there, from the bigotry and hate of this world…and from you.”

Doubt assailed Inuyasha, weighing him down and suppressing his defenses. The darkness which he had been successfully holding at bay began to creep in, taking advantage of his weakness. But he somehow found the strength within himself to resist, to stop his descent before he crossed the point of no return. He couldn’t explain why, but Hakago was wrong. This entire situation was wrong. And so he pushed aside his rampant emotions, and as painful as it was, he forced himself to reflect upon what he had seen. He turned first to the vision freshest in his mind, and the one which had nearly sent him plummeting into a fatal spiral of self-loathing. Killing Kagome and their child…such a thing was unspeakable, yet because of his heritage he was forced to confront the possibility. Ever since his first transformation against Goshinki, there had existed a dangerous chance that he would become a monster and turn his claws against his friends. But in any of those situations, had he actually done so? Had he not voluntarily reversed his last three transformations?

The answers to these questions were encouraging. Now that he had managed to overcome his initial knee-jerk reaction, he saw the truth. He was clearly not a mindless animal anymore when transformed, if he had ever been. Even after slaying Goshinki, he’d warned Kagome to stay away from him. A mindless animal would have slaughtered her without hesitation. And his level of control over his youkai side had certainly improved since then. He couldn’t imagine that he would fail to recognize his friends as ‘pack’ if he ever transformed in their presence again. And if that was the case, then would he not also recognize Kagome as his mate, and his children as his offspring? Beyond the logic or his own memories, Inuyasha felt the answer, deep in his soul. Even in his full-youkai state, he would never hurt the people he loved.

He approached the other images in the same manner. The sight of Kagome being hurt boiled his blood, as it always had. It forced him to wonder…was he being selfish? Would being with him ruin her life? The murkiness of these answers seemed to cast a shadow upon Inuyasha’s artificial world. For he knew that no matter how careful he was, no matter how diligently he watched over her, he could never guarantee her absolute safety. He could never completely shelter her from the hostile world around her. This life he intended to ask her to live with him…could kill her.

“I’m with you by choice.”

The memory of those words raised his fragile spirits. Kagome had made this message abundantly clear to him many times since they’d first met, both with words and actions, but never had she spoken it so plainly as that day. Slumped against his back, physically and mentally exhausted from struggling against Tsubaki’s curse, she’d assured him that he had nothing to apologize for, that she was with him because she wanted to be. She would never know how much those words meant to him at the time, how they’d eased his guilty conscience. The memory brought a tentative smile to his face. Kagome… He had never forced her to stay. He had only truly asked her to stay once, after that terrible encounter with Kikyou a few months ago. Still, she remained by his side, because that was her heart’s desire. Because…she loves me. And was love not worth the risk?

Sending her back to her own time would be safer, of that there was no doubt. But even in the modern world, her well-being was far from assured. No matter where she chose to live, danger lurked, both anticipated and unexpected. If a perfect utopia existed in some place or time, humanity certainly hadn’t found it yet. And if he chose to send her back, both he and Kagome would be miserable. Happiness and safety did not have to be mutually exclusive. Kagome had survived everything they’d been through so far. As long as she was by his side, his protectiveness of her would never waver. It was true that he could not shelter her absolutely, but there was much they could do to minimize the risks. Kagome was not stupid; she had grown much in her understanding of the dangers of this world, human and otherwise. What knowledge she lacked, he would share with her. He would tell her how his mother died, and plead with her never to let her guard down. He would tell her which settlements to avoid, and what to look for should she ever find herself beyond his protection. And she would undoubtedly remind him that there were good people in this world, people who accepted them, and people who would tolerate their relationship. Many of whom resided in Kaede’s village, where Inuyasha hoped to make their home. There would be reluctance and even hostility at first, but the inhabitants respected the opinion of their elderly miko, who had never shown any aversion to the two of them being together. Once the villagers saw that Kagome could still serve as a miko even after bearing a hanyou’s child, they would eventually come around.

Ultimately, it came down to this–Kagome wanted to stay, and he could not justify taking the decision away from her. The risk to her health increased if she remained by his side, but life was not about eliminating all risk. Life was about living. Kagome had taught him that. And neither of them could truly live without the other. No matter where or when they chose to live, as long as they were together, they would be home. It was as simple as that.

Inuyasha could have considered his unborn child as well, who would surely need a father even more than most children did. The young quarter-youkai would grow up in an unwelcoming world, the majority of which was still not ready to accept his kind. He would need to be taught how to handle adversity, how to manage his strength, and how to live as someone who carried parts of both the youkai and human worlds within him, yet was truly part of neither. Perhaps that would change someday. Every day spent with Kagome and his friends made Inuyasha feel less like an outcast. He truly was part of their world. It gave him hope that his children could find the same level of love and acceptance. Ultimately, however, Inuyasha didn’t spare these issues more than a passing thought. He already possessed all the conviction he needed.

“So Kagome would be better off if she’d never met me, eh?” he snarled, golden eyes ablaze with passion. “You’re wrong. Kagome was born to meet me!”

He let his emotions take over at that point, as his youkai power flared to life around him. This was it. He had taken Hakago’s best shot, and remained unbroken. Now it was his turn. He gritted his teeth, growling with the effort as he summoned forth more and more of his willpower, pressing outward on this mental prison. Within moments, the artificial world surrounding him began to waver, distorting as some image on a fantastic television screen. Then it began to flicker, affording Inuyasha a series of glimpses through his own eyes again. He saw his friends, all watching him intently. Shippou appeared to be shouting, cheering with his fist raised, but the sound was muted. Glancing down, he saw Kagome lying unconscious at his feet, the gentle rise and fall of her chest a balm to his soul. He was almost there. So close, to where he was born to be.

Another image swam before his eyes, this one faded as though merely showing it to him had brought Hakago to the brink of his endurance. Inuyasha could sense his enemy’s desperation, but the sight sent shock rippling through his body. His momentum abated and finally fizzled altogether, as his sudden stupor drew him to a standstill. Its author no longer pushed to the brink, the image solidified, immersing Inuyasha fully within this new world, which the hanyou instinctively identified as a memory. A memory he had never seen before.

She lay beneath him on the futon, her raven locks fanned haphazardly around her. Her bare breasts heaved with her breathing, covered in a fine sheen of sweat. Her breath came in shallow pants, passing through lips bruised from rough treatment. Her cheeks were flushed, but her expression was not one of embarrassment. Her scent coiled around him, sadness and despair tinged with hints of arousal. Her eyes matched her scent perfectly, tearful and pleading. She shifted slightly, making Inuyasha aware of his own position. He leaned over her, as naked as she was, supporting his upper body with hands braced against the futon on either side of her head. Her right hand was clutched in his left, the hold awkward and undoubtedly uncomfortable for her as he pinned it to the futon. He knelt between her parted legs, his hardness pressed against her thigh, leaving no doubt as to what he had been about to do before something stopped him. Perhaps it had been Kagome’s left hand grasping his bicep, her fingernails digging into the muscle.

“Please, Inuyasha, don’t…”

Her voice trailed off then, and she bit her lower lip. For a second which seemed to stretch for a small eternity, Inuyasha watched her in oppressive, dreadful silence, the three words she had spoken reverberating through his mind. Then abruptly the memory cut out, returning him to Hakago’s artificial world. He floated there unblinking, unfeeling, the image of Kagome lying beneath him seared into his consciousness.

“Now you know the truth about that night, Inuyasha,” the infant observed, his voice dripping with false sympathy. “And why you blacked it out. You were right, Inuyasha. In the following days, when you feared this…you were right.”

Inuyasha gasped, shaking his head and refusing to believe his enemy’s words. But his own memory defeated him, the lingering image of Kagome’s heartbroken eyes and desperate tone sapping his strength. He really had feared this, had he not? He seemed to recall Miroku and Kagome herself assuring him that it was not the case, but he could no longer remember their words, or why they had convinced him that he was not, could not be a rapist bastard. Because in reality, every insult thrown his way, every time someone had judged him based on his appearance alone, they had been right. He was the monster most people assumed him to be.

Too late Inuyasha realized he was sinking, the light fading above him as blackness rose up on all sides. Too late he remembered the needs of the child in Kagome’s womb, and his beloved’s own feelings. And by the time he considered the possibility, even a miniscule one, that things were not exactly as they appeared, there was no time left to fight. He struggled feebly for a moment, but the darkness weighed him down, now too powerful to be defeated by force of will alone. Kagome…I’m so sorry, was his final thought before his consciousness faded to black.

* * *

Miroku eyed his friend carefully, stepping cautiously closer. Inuyasha’s head was down, his bangs concealing his face from view. Up until a few moments ago, the hanyou’s aura had been rising, swelling with power as they watched with bated breath and cheered him on. Then the evolving balance of power shifted dramatically; Inuyasha’s youki rapidly subsided, overshadowed by a vaguely familiar, sinister aura. Things had stabilized now, but that foreign youki remained. Miroku thought he knew what this meant, but hoped he was wrong.

“Inuyasha?”

The hanyou’s head snapped up at the sound of his voice, golden eyes boring into Miroku’s for a fraction of a second. But that was all the time the monk needed to realize that those bright orbs no longer belonged to the man whom he had come to know as a close friend and loyal ally. Inuyasha was gone.

Miroku had prepared himself for this. His reflexes were on high alert, and he’d felt that he was ready for anything. But the suddenness and speed of Inuyasha’s movements caught him off guard, and the monk could no more defend himself from the blur of silver and crimson than he could turn back time and prevent all of this from happening. But then, he supposed that the ability to redo things was a common wish for people to make as their death loomed before them. He heard Sango’s scream as Inuyasha barreled into him, grabbing him by the shoulders and driving him to the ground. That surprised Miroku in and of itself, the fact that Hakago hadn’t simply sliced him in half where he stood. But he knew that it was only a momentary reprieve. His eyes had slammed shut when the back of his head struck the earth, and he kept them closed as he waited for the final blow to come.

Nothing happened. Miroku sensed Inuyasha’s presence above him, but the hanyou was not moving. He did hear rustling off to the side, undoubtedly Sango preparing herself for combat. But she did not dare to move any closer, likely fearing that such an action would bring about a bloody end to this unexpected stalemate.

“Inu–Hakago!” she snapped, sensing what Miroku had also realized. “Let. Him. Go!” she snarled, emphasizing every syllable.

“Tch,” Inuyasha snorted, a sound which held irritation rather than amusement, as Miroku might have anticipated. Finally the monk could ignore his curiosity no longer, and he opened his eyes. He was not surprised find himself literally under Inuyasha’s claws, the five glistening points on the hanyou’s right hand poised to slice open his throat at any moment. But Hakago made no move to strike, and in fact his new hand shook with some unknown strain, his teeth gritted with the effort. Understanding dawned on the monk at the same time his assailant swore under his breath, withdrawing as quickly as he’d attacked.

“Kagome-chan!” Sango cried, drawing Miroku’s attention. She started to throw hiraikotsu, then stopped herself. Following her gaze, the monk saw why. Inuyasha was crouched over Kagome’s prone form; Sango obviously hadn’t wanted to risk accidentally hitting the miko, especially if she shared his suspicion about why he was still alive right now. As they watched, the hanyou flung open Kagome’s robes and snatched up a small item as if he knew exactly where it was. The Shikon no Tama! He must have picked it up off the battlefield while still in Kagome-sama’s body! Finally, Hakago stood, glaring down at Kagome with fierce murderous intent. But he made no move to harm her, confirming what Miroku already suspected. At last, he spun and darted off into the nearby forest, quickly vanishing through the trees.

Miroku looked at Sango, finding that she had already come to the same decision as he, and that she was equally torn. Two undesirable options were laid out before them, but one central question held the key to the answer–which friend did they give priority to? Kagome or Inuyasha? Although, it wasn’t truly that simple. Kagome was lying unconscious right in front of them; they could definitely take care of her easily enough. Inuyasha, on the other hand, was currently racing away from them at hanyou speed. Taking into account other factors such as Kirara’s wounded leg and their utter lack of any sort of plan to free him from Hakago’s influence, chasing after the hanyou seemed like a losing proposition. Perhaps they weren’t in any danger from Inuyasha’s claws, but they also could do nothing to help him.

Miroku supposed there was a third option, namely splitting up the group. Either he or Sango could stay behind to watch over Kagome, or one of them could even take her along on Kirara in the hopes that she woke up. The miko might be able to fight against Hakago with her spiritual abilities. But right now she was dead to the world, and no one knew when, or even if, she would wake. Besides, neither of the ‘third options’ he’d just imagined involved a high level of care for Kagome herself. She had just spent weeks in captivity, being possessed by an incarnation of the most evil creature who had ever walked the Earth. Inuyasha believed that her physical body and the infant growing inside of it where fine, but how could they be sure? At the very least, the ordeal warranted an examination by a physician, preferably one from her own time who practiced advanced modern medicine.

Finally, Miroku sighed miserably, the knowledge that he’d made the right decision still not making it any easier to stomach. The memory of Inuyasha’s own words did, however, lighten his conscience somewhat. We did promise him, did we not? That we would make Kagome-sama put the baby first, and not let her go after him. And while the hanyou hadn’t demanded it of them in so many words, Miroku had no doubt what his friend had truly meant–to take care of Kagome and the baby, even if it meant leaving him to fend for himself inside a body he no longer owned. As much as he hated it, Miroku knew he had to abide by Inuyasha’s wishes, both because it was by far the most pragmatic thing to do, and because it was the right thing to do.

The sound of quiet footfalls drew his attention to Sango, who was striding purposefully over toward Kagome. The miko still lay in the same position Hakago had left her in, her robes in disarray. Miroku averted his eyes respectfully as Sango rearranged her clothing. Then he shuffled over to join the women, picking up Shippou along the way, who appeared to be in shock. Miroku patted his head, understanding the kit’s feelings perfectly.

“How is she?” he asked, the first words anyone had spoken since Inuyasha’s departure.

“She seems fine,” Sango replied, her tone heavy with sadness and worry. “At least physically…”

Comprehending her meaning, Miroku handed Shippou to his fiancée and settled into a meditative sitting position. Once he felt that his spirit was as calm as this fucked up situation would allow, he breathed deeply and extended his hands over Kagome’s form. They hovered there, not touching her, as he used his own spiritual training to search for any trace of her, the woman who had become like a sister to him. Time stretched on with agonizing slowness as he delved deeper, peeling back the layers of Kagome’s soul. Finally, he slumped in relief, managing a small smile as he met the concerned gazes of his companions.

“She is alive,” he declared, which caused Sango to mirror his reaction and some of the life to return to Shippou’s eyes. “I do not know how long it will take for her to wake, but now that Hakago is gone, she should make a full recovery.”

What he didn’t tell them was how weak Kagome’s aura was, though it appeared that Sango saw right through him. Miroku thought he understood the reason for the miko’s peril. For weeks, Hakago had been unable to utilize her spiritual energy. Then, just a short while ago, he had summoned the full force of her miko power and used it to purify the Shikon no Tama and destroy Naraku. Kagome’s rapidly waning aura probably had everything to do with this sudden change. No wonder Inuyasha was almost willing to sacrifice Kagura. Kagome-sama must have seen us in danger during the battle, and surrendered to Hakago so he could use her power to save us. She must have known it would kill her, but that didn’t stop her. His admiration for the young woman raised to new heights, Miroku could only be grateful that they had managed to avert her intended sacrifice. Unfortunately, she would wake to an incomplete world, one in which the man she loved had been torn from her side. Knowing Kagome, she would be driven to do something about that. Honoring the promise he and Sango had made to Inuyasha was not going to be easy. It was something they needed to discuss, and soon.

Miroku cleared his throat to draw his companions’ attention. “I believe we all know what has happened here today,” he said, meeting each of their gazes in turn to confirm. Shippou still seemed fairly out of it; he was busy watching Kagome intently.

“And what we must do going forward,” Sango replied solemnly, grimacing as her thoughts drifted in the same direction. “Honoring our promise to Inuyasha is not going to be easy, is it?”

Miroku grinned inwardly. We already think alike under pressure. Pretty soon we’ll be finishing each other’s sentences. But his amusement did not reach his face, and it dissipated quickly.

“No, I fear not, Sango. And for this reason, I feel that–Shippou?” he called, tapping the kit to get his attention. The young fox who was at times not the best at keeping secrets needed to hear this. Satisfied that Shippou was focusing on him, Miroku steeled his resolve and spoke the words which weighed heavily upon his heart.

“We must not tell Kagome-sama what Inuyasha said, about choosing her.”

He got the reaction he expected from Shippou–wide eyes, and a demand to know why. Sango simply closed her eyes, wiping a tear from her cheek. Miroku felt for her; since the beginning of their journey together, Sango and Kagome had shared much with each other, more than anyone else in the group by far. They had become each other’s closest friends. This deception, this lie, was going to hurt Sango more than anyone, except Kagome herself. But it was a necessary evil, and he was glad the taijiya agreed with him. Now, if he could just persuade the young fox…

“Shippou, do you want Kagome-sama’s baby to be born healthy?”

“O-Of course I do!”

“Do you also remember the promise we made to Inuyasha?”

Shippou frowned. “Yeah, b-but–”

“I know it is difficult, Shippou. You want to go after Inuyasha, and so do Sango and I. You can bet that Kagome-sama will as well. But Inuyasha knew what he was talking about. We cannot let a woman in the advanced stages of pregnancy go traipsing around in the wilderness searching for a hanyou who does not wish to be found. Inuyasha asked us to ‘make Kagome put the baby first.’ If we tell Kagome-sama what he said, it will be even more difficult to persuade her to do what is best for her, and for the baby.”

Shippou remained silent, biting his lip as he tried to come up with a way around Miroku’s logic. But the monk could tell when he gave up, as tears began to flow down his cheeks.

“I don’t understand!” he wailed. “That jerk Inuyasha! How could he have lost?!”

Miroku could only shake his head, as Sango hugged Shippou and comforted him as best she could. A glance told him that she was just as puzzled by that question as he was. Inuyasha had finally realized how he felt about Kagome. And he must surely have known, or at least strongly suspected, how she felt about him. So how had Hakago managed to corrupt his heart? What darkness had been left to find?

“I wish I knew, Shippou. I wish I knew.”

* * *

I’m…I’m moving.

It was a pleasant motion, steady and repetitive. It was almost like walking, but her legs were lifted out in front of her and bent at the knees, so that was impossible. Her sleep-addled brain felt like it was slogging through mud, and her eyes were strangely heavy. But she felt safe, and remained relaxed as awareness gradually returned to her mind. Eventually, she realized that she was being carried.

Immediately her thoughts turned to Inuyasha, her lips quirking up in a lazy smile as she drifted in that enchanted land between sleep and wakefulness, where happy memories frolic and harsh reality merely lurks in the distance, blissfully out of sight. Kagome was in no hurry to leave that place, instinctively knowing that the waking world would be less sweet.

“Are you all right, Houshi-sama?”

A jolt surged through Kagome’s mind at the sound of that voice, nearby and familiar. Another more powerful one passed through her system as the body underneath her answered the question, in a voice which most definitely did not belong to Inuyasha. Though Kagome was relieved to note that this other voice also seemed familiar.

“I’m fine, Sango.”

“Are you sure? Kirara can take over.”

“Well, let me carry her for a little while longer. Then perhaps Kirara can take her until we are ready to stop for the night. Is that agreeable, Kirara?”

*Mew*

Kagome’s brow furrowed. She had recognized all of those voices, even the feline’s vocalization. But none of them belonged to Inuyasha, whom her idyllic subconscious wanderings had led her to expect. The hands supporting her thighs were not tipped with sharp claws which nevertheless instilled absolutely no fear in her. The back supporting her was strong, but its contours were not correct, nor did the fabric pressed against her cheek conjure images of vivid red and feelings of warmth and safety. She was being carried by a friend, but not Inuyasha. This more than anything else finally encouraged Kagome to struggle out of the dream world in which she had been hovering. She lifted her head and squinted her eyes open, wondering if the sunlight was really as blinding as it appeared, or if it was just her.

“Kagome!”

That surprised, high-pitched scream directly beside her ear caused the bewildered miko to duck her head against her bearer’s back with a miserable groan. Other words followed, from all of the familiar-but-not-Inuyasha voices, but the ringing in her ears allowed Kagome to tune them out. Eventually they went silent, but only when the throbbing in her temples decreased to a tolerable level did Kagome dare to lift her head once more. As she met their gazes for the first time, the sense of familiarity increased. She must know these friendly-looking people, but for the life of her, she couldn’t place their names or how she knew them.

“Kagome, are you okay?” the little kitsune boy asked from his perch atop the man’s shoulder, much quieter this time. Kagome blinked at him, unsure how to respond.

“Let’s set her down,” the woman said, and the man released his grip on her thigh, allowing her leg to straighten. She grabbed his shoulders and held on instinctively, but then the woman was behind her, supporting her, whispering soothing words in her ear. But Kagome only tightened her grip on the fabric under her hands and shook her head, eyes wide with sudden terror. The other woman remained calm, however, ever so slowly disentangling the frightened miko’s fingers and lowering her shaking form to the ground. Then she leaned her back against something incredibly soft, something that moved. Kagome recoiled in fear as she noticed the bright red eyes of the massive feline whom she was currently resting against. This monster had been a kitten just a moment ago! But her impression of familiarity did not fade. It was so strange, the sensation of knowing these people, yet not knowing them. And where was Inuyasha? She was so confused. She shook harder, curling in on herself, keening sounds forming in the back of her throat. It was all becoming too much. The world around her began to fade, and she willingly drifted toward blissful unconsciousness. At least there, she could find Inuyasha.

“What’s wrong with her?” Shippou demanded, his voice high with panic.

“Relax, Shippou,” Sango replied, the worry in her tone belying her words. “She’s just in shock. Kagome-chan?”

“Kagome-chan?”

“Kagome-chan!”

She felt hands grab her own, stalling her descent into oblivion. Warm hands, but not Inuyasha’s. Despite that fact, she experienced a certain degree of comfort. These were hands she had trusted in the past, hands which had never let her down. She could trust them again. Hesitantly she reversed course, gradually floating up towards the waking world once more. When she broke the surface, she opened her eyes, finding the woman with the trustworthy hands kneeling before her with an expression of relief mixed with concern. She was saying something, so with effort Kagome focused on the moving lips and willed her ears to capture the speech.

“–me-chan? Kagome-chan? Are you all right? Can you hear me?”

Kagome didn’t recall telling her body to nod, but her point of vision moved up and down a few times, and the woman broke out in a relieved smile.

“Thank the Kami. Okay, Kagome-chan. Just relax,” she said, enunciating every word slowly and clearly. “Why don’t you rest until you get your bearings? No one needs to talk to you until you’re ready. But we’re your friends, and we want to be here for you. Is it okay if we stay?”

Kagome was torn. On the one hand, she wished these confusing people would leave her alone. But the greater part of her was moved by the woman’s heartfelt plea, and feared the prospect of solitude. Inuyasha wasn’t here. Who knew what evil lurked just off the roadway, behind every bush and tree trunk, biding its time until she became completely helpless? These people, on the other hand, were familiar to her and seemed to care for her well-being. Despite her reservations, it was not a difficult decision for even the disoriented miko to make.

At her timid nod, her companions smiled happily and left her to relax in peace, as promised. The man and woman sat conversing in hushed voices a short distance away; what words Kagome could make out indicated that they were talking about her. The miko found that she didn’t really mind. Clearly, there was something wrong with her. Amnesia was certainly not a normal occurrence, though it would hopefully be a temporary one. Kagome didn’t know what her old life was like, but it must surely be better than sitting here with nothing but a giant void where her past should be. If anything, the threads of memory she had been able to piece together only confused her more. Sensing her anxiety, the fire-cat currently serving as her backrest nuzzled her hand gently, its soothing rumble passing to Kagome through their contact. Still nervous, but no longer fearful of the benevolent beast, the miko hesitantly reached up and stroked the luxurious fur, starting at its neck but eventually moving up to its head at the feline’s encouragement.

A small smile tugged on the corners of Kagome’s lips, her first since her distressing realization that Inuyasha was not here. She wanted to know where he was, but wasn’t sure she was ready to know the answer. Her friends had told her to rest, and that was probably the best thing for her. Leaning further into her furry cushion, she turned her gaze up to the sky, sighing as a good portion of the tension gradually drained from her being. Her attempts to shut her mind off were not entirely successful, but she managed to avoid stressing too much about her lost memory. If it was meant to come back, it would. And if not, she would make a new life, and live for the future.

Eventually, the combination of her recovering eyes and the darkening of the sky overhead meant that she no longer had to squint. Before she realized, several hours had passed and the sun was setting on the western horizon. The conversation around her had long since ceased; the silence which reigned was not comfortable, nor was it oppressive. Perhaps expectant or anticipatory would be good adjectives to describe it. Her friends were waiting for her, she knew, and finally Kagome felt calm enough to raise her head and interact with the group. She glanced at each of them in turn, still drawing a blank on their names, though the feeling of familiarity had only grown during her period of quiet mediation. For the first time she noticed the human boy sitting by himself at the edge of the tree line. But he ignored her and seemed only vaguely familiar, so she moved on quickly. Finally her gaze settled on the young kitsune child, sitting morosely by himself in front of her. He looked absolutely miserable, and Kagome’s heart went out to him. He had obviously expected her to remember him, to be her old self again when she woke up. She didn’t know the reason behind her current disappointing situation, but she determined to try to remember, for his sake. She hated seeing a child so sad.

Her brow furrowing with the effort, she delved into the chaotic mess that was her mind, searching for that one particular piece of information which might make the little boy smile. Her vision swam briefly, but she pushed through it and the dizziness faded. Still his name eluded her, which made no sense. Of all her companions, his identity should be the most obvious. Kagome was sure she knew many men and women, and probably multiple cats as well. But she found it hard to believe that there was anyone in her life like this tiny kitsune child with beautiful emerald eyes and an adorable tail. There was only one…only one…

“Shi– Shi– Shippou-chan!” she declared at last, experiencing a quiet sense of accomplishment. Those bright green eyes went wide as saucers, and the young kitsune leapt to his feet and raced over to her, his tail practically wagging with excitement.

“You remember me, Kagome?!” he shouted, and when Kagome nodded, his grin spread to encompass nearly his entire face. The miko grunted as he slammed into her chest, clinging to her clothing for all he was worth. Far from minding the display of affection, she hugged him back, glad that his tears were now born of happiness rather than misery. Then she turned to the man and woman, currently gazing at her with guarded hope in their eyes. Evidently reaching within herself to discover one name had made the others easier to find, because within half a minute the woman’s name was on the tip of her tongue.

“S-Sango-chan.”

Sango slumped in relief, and Kagome belatedly realized that the monk sitting next to the taijiya had used her name in conversation when they thought she was still asleep. The first thing which came to mind when she looked to him, however, was not his name or even the title which Sango customarily used.

“Hentai,” she mumbled without really thinking about it, immediately blushing as she realized what nonsense had just been excreted from her mouth. She hurried to apologize but Sango’s soft snickering gave her pause. If the taijiya thought it was funny…could it be true? The monk just sighed dramatically and muttered something about being ‘misunderstood.’ Kagome frowned. If the monk really was a hentai, and had been carrying her so intimately… Fortunately, Sango seemed to understand her suddenly alarmed expression.

“Don’t worry, Kagome-chan. I kept an eye on him while he was carrying you. I watched him like a hawk,” the taijiya told her with a wink. The monk sighed again, even louder than before. Comforted by Sango’s reassurances, it did not take long for Kagome to come up with the monk’s actual name, or that of the feline at her back. The collective mood was jovial for a few blissful moments. But there was still one person missing, and finally Kagome felt confident enough to ask the question which had been on her mind ever since first waking up.

“Inuyasha. Where is Inuyasha?”

All conversation stopped at her query, an intense silence falling over the group. The atmosphere became heavy, and suddenly no one could meet her gaze. They clearly did not want to tell her what had happened to the person she had never ceased to identify as the man she loved.

“Where is Inuyasha?!” she demanded again, real fear coloring her tone this time. She swayed lightly as dizziness returned, a consequence of her accelerating heartbeat. Seeing this, and likely fearing another fainting spell, Sango spoke up.

“Relax, Kagome-chan! Inuyasha is f-fine. He’s alive.”

Kagome was obviously glad to hear this, but her worried heart latched onto Sango’s tiny stutter of the word ‘fine,’ and her tone which suggested that while she was telling the truth, it was not the whole truth.

“Where is he?” she asked again, still very concerned though no longer hovering on the verge of panic. Sango grimaced and rubbed the back of her neck, the picture of a woman charged with bearing bad news and unsure how to give it. Kagome waited impatiently for her friend to find her words.

“Do you remember anything about what has happened over the last few months, Kagome-chan?” When Kagome only frowned at the question and shook her head, Sango sighed in resignation. “Do you remember…Hakago?”

Kagome gasped. It was true that her memories of the past were hidden from her, but that name she did remember. Immediately, strong sensations of revulsion and anger welled up inside her. She recalled feeling despair and profound helplessness, all in connection with that particular name. That’s right…I was controlled by Hakago. She didn’t know how, when, or for what purpose, but the truth of that assertion was unassailable. She really had been controlled by Hakago. And now…what? Seeing her reaction, Sango finally provided the answer she was seeking.

“Inuyasha freed you from Hakago…by taking your place.”

For a moment, Kagome only stared at the other girl in shock, unable or unwilling to accept those words. It seemed too far-fetched. Her strong, indomitable hanyou had lost? Her sweet, beautiful Inuyasha was now under the control of the same monster who had possessed her? Frantically she searched Sango’s face for any sign of untruth, but found only sadness and sympathy. That was when Kagome knew it was true. Her bottom lip trembled, and she curled in on herself as the fragile dam on her emotions began to give way. And when she felt Sango’s arms encircle her, she threw herself into her friend’s embrace and wept bitterly.

It was late that evening before an exhausted Kagome finally cried herself to sleep.